


The Coven of Warstone Parade: Origins

by shutupmeg



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Magic, Multi, Origin Story, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, RPG, Supernatural Elements, Victorian, Witches, coven - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:32:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9074098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupmeg/pseuds/shutupmeg
Summary: Late 19th century Victorian Birmingham is no place for a witch. Or five.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I doubt anyone other than the three people this is for will read this but just in case:
> 
> This story is inspired by an original RPG I am currently a part of. However, the storyline in our game takes place after all of this has transpired, so I suppose this is a prequel of sorts. It is mainly focused on Luella because that is the character I play, so I know the most about her and how she operates. Lavender and River are the other PC's played by two of my friends, and Helen was an NPC played by our GM, Orey, who I guess is responsible for this whole thing with his good storytelling and writing skills (thanks a lot, see what you made me do?)
> 
> A lot of the other characters present in this story will me made up by me, however, there will be some crossover with characters or plotlines mentioned in-game that clearly only the four of us who play would know, but I'll note them at the end of chapters, just for funsies.
> 
>  
> 
> For Orey, Abby, and Jordan.

“A beauty indeed,” a robust yet feminine voice uttered as a heavy finger stroked the child’s soft cheek.

“You will be hard pressed to find another with such pulchritude. And only a child,” she sighed. “So it is, I suppose, that youth shall always be wasted on the young. Tell me little one, wherever did you come by such a beautiful locket as the one around your neck?”

The voice belonged to one Francine Blackwood, a woman in her late fifties, sat slightly hunched from her already aching bones, yet always seen with a jovial face. The child in question, her five-year-old niece, stood like a statue. Her impeccable posture was contested only by her stony expression. A seemingly carved porcelain face framed by dark raven hair stared back at her. Not a word was uttered as her Aunt Francine eyed the golden trinket resting softly on her chest, the intricate engravings catching the light gently.

“Luella,” a much sterner voice broke through the quiet, making the girl flinch slightly. “You are to answer when being addressed.”

When Luella’s father, the well-known and respected Leonard Blackwood commanded something of anyone, they listened _and_ obeyed. Either that or there was hell to pay. To her chagrin, Luella learned early on that the easiest way to stay clear of her father’s wrath was to yield to him, the few times she was in the direct line of fire of his anger was enough to convince her to just play along. Her natural instinct to do the exact opposite of any orders thrown her way never did her any good, so she begrudgingly complied.

Glancing to Francine quickly, then immediately fixing her gaze to the design on the painfully expensive rug under the woman’s feet, Luella spoke softly.

“It was my grandmother’s,” her voice gentle and slightly nervous. From behind her and to her right, Leonard cleared his throat, indicating a forgotten courtesy.

“Mum,” Luella added quickly, eyes still averted.

“Oh, your grandmother Margaret, bless her soul. You are very lucky to have received such a prepossessing heirloom.”

Though Luella wasn’t entirely sure what most of those words meant, she knew the appropriate response, her immaculate poise and conduct the product of her mother, Lydia, who was currently flanking her left holding the hand of her two-year-old sister, Louisa.

Her mother, though not as straight-laced as her husband, was hardly merciful when it came to punishment for her eldest daughter’s transgressions. A mother before all else, Lydia promised never to strike her children, a pledge Leonard never gave a second thought to make. Instead, she elected to use words with a soft voice, which did nothing to make the harshness of her upbraiding tolerable. More often than not, Luella found herself crying as she unsuccessfully willed herself to sleep at night, any liveliness she may have had as a baby now extinguished.

“Thank you, mum.” A small curtsey broke her stately manner as Luella moved a small hand to lightly caress the bijou hanging from her neck. Lydia’s hand touched and squeezed her shoulder as a sort of “well done” and immediately put it back at her side. It was as though she had been tested, and she seemed to have passed, whatever that meant. A silence fell over the small parlor, the sound of Francine shifting in her chair and Louisa’s restless movements made all the more uncomfortable.

“Well,” Leonard’s booming voice startled everyone in the room, effectively shifting the atmosphere. “Shall we?”

“Ah yes, I suppose this little meeting has proven to be most dull for the young ones, I’m sure your lovely cooks have supper ready by now,” Francine said as she shifted to rise from her chair, smiling fondly at the two children. Leonard moved forward to help his sister stand, the discomfort of her joints extremely evident. He led her through the threshold of the parlor into the foyer, which they then crossed to the dining room.

 

* * *

 

 

Blackwood manor was one of the finest estates in Birmingham, possibly England. Likened more to a fortress than a home, the family had lived there for several generations. Leonard’s great-grandfather founded, built and ran a textile manufacturing facility up until the very day he died. Leonard, with the help of some business partners, created the Blackwood Steel Factory, which grew to become a monstrous success.

The estate was located several miles outside of town and spanned many acres. Fields and trees surrounded it and a sizable lake about 3 kilometers out from the back of the house proved to be a refreshing past time in the summer. Verdant hills rolled whichever way they pleased, washed with the yellows, pinks, and purples of wildflowers. The only sounds were the shrill calls of bramblings and the ever-present rustle of leaves in the wind, which became more of a moan as frosty air rushed through branches and open fields in the winter. If Luella was lucky, she would spot an occasional waxwing, whose silky plumage remained pure and untouched by the ripe berries they picked at ravenously.

An endearing tenderness toward wildlife around Blackwood manor left Luella longing for something of her own, an animal she could care for. Alas, though she was still too young to ride by herself, her wish was answered in the form of a young thoroughbred stallion. He was originally bred for racing, however, the horse was taken out of contention after a leg injury became too risky for the tracks. The owners, not wanting to waste time on a decommissioned horse that would only cost money to rear, were going to have him put down. Thankfully, Leonard knew them personally and after bringing Luella with him to their farms for a visit, the child cried and begged for her father to save the poor animal. The next week, a new addition to their stables arrived.

“This is your responsibility now. If you don’t fulfill this responsibility, I’ll take him out back and shoot the thing down myself, understood?” The threat dampened Luella’s excitement slightly, but she was determined to prove to her father that she could do it.

Luella gulped. "Yes, papa."

The head stable boy, who was actually a middle-aged man by the name of Alister, overheard the gruff exchange between father and daughter as he led the new horse to tie up for grooming. He grimaced to himself for a five-year-old had no business hearing such atrocities. Once Leonard had gone and left Luella to gaze admiringly at her new friend, Alister handed her a brush and lifted her onto a nearby step stool so she could reach the horse’s side. His spirited manner and thick Scottish accent charmed Luella since the first time she set foot in the stables. He spoke kindly and gently.

“Dinnae you worry mo barra, should you find yourself ill or unfit, I’ll personally see to…err…have you given the beast a name yet then?” Alister watched as Luella gently stroked the golden chestnut coat at its shoulder and tangled her small fingers in his long mane of the same sunny color.

“He is a very pretty color,” Luella stated matter-of-factly and contemplated, her gentle posh accent a stark contrast to Alister’s brogue.

“Aye, the color of wheat as it waves in the sun, I reckon.”

“Hmm, Wheat isn’t a very good name for a horse. It’s too short,” she fussed.

“Right,” he thought for a moment. “Whadya think of Buckwheat then? Fit fer a Blackwood horse?” At this suggestion, Luella’s face lit up and she turned to Alister fondly.

“Yes, Buckwheat! I want to name him Buckwheat!” she answered.

“Aye, and a fine name it is. I’ll fetch for a new nameplate first thing tomorro’. Buckwheat is certainly in good hands here mo barra, that’s for sure.” Luella’s brilliant smile tugged at his heart and she leaned to the edge of her box and wrapped her arms around his thin frame as tight as she could. He grinned fondly and mussed her hair playfully.

 

The red fortified stables stood to the right of the mansion, providing a home for the horses as well as a location for the stable boys and other caretakers to gather and enjoy each other’s company. Although in the colder seasons, they convened in the servant’s quarters or the kitchen out of the biting frosty air. The structure, Luella thought, though nearly one-tenth the size of her home, could fit several families comfortably. Sometimes she wished she could live with the jovial stable keepers instead of her glacial family. As she looked from her window at night and watched the warm glow radiate from the edifice, the faint sound of laughter and drunken singing was often carried to her room relaying a sense of happiness she had yet to find anywhere else.

One night, long after the sun had set and the mansion had fallen asleep, Luella rose from her enormous bed far too big for someone her size and shuffled to her window. Sure enough, a faint light filled the windows and off toward the stable’s entrance, Alister and a group of younger men and women sat around a small campfire. They passed a bottle between them, exchanged anecdotes, and laughed heartily. This routine would repeat itself endlessly it seemed. Desperate to be a part of such camaraderie, Luella dashed from the window, grabbing her plush robe and slippers, and made for her door. Sneaking through the house proved to be a simple task seeing as she hardly made a sound. Making her way to the now darkened sunroom that overlooked the patio and gardens, Luella exited the back door into the black of night, the cold air chilling her tiny figure in a matter of seconds.

Eventually finding her way through the thick foliage of the garden, some plants had grown to twice her height, she made out the light from the fire and trotted over with a sense of giddy adventure. The closer she got, the better she could make out the motley crew, which was filled with all the familiar faces of her friends. Groundskeepers, stable boys, and even the cook Mrs. O’Keefe all gathered cozily sharing a bottle of whiskey on a summer's night.

“Oi, haud yer wheesht! Wha’s that?” A stable boy named Callum called out, his vibrant red hair and freckles visible even in dim lighting. He stood along with Alister as they watched the small shape approach.

“Is it an animal d’you reckon? It’s quite wee.” Callum squinted even harder and Alister suddenly moved forward, dropping the bottle of whiskey next to where he was sitting on a large piece of firewood.

“Och, mo Dhia, child whadya think yer doin’ out here? It’s black as the Earl of Hell’s waistcoat and a right chill has crept in!” Alister closed the gap between Luella and the rest of the group, who had all fallen silent, watching in confusion. He scooped her up and frowned slightly as he carried her toward the fire’s warmth.

“Now, wee barra…if you wouldnae mind tellin’ us what you think you’re doin’ out here?”

“I saw you from my bedroom window,” she responded, pointing to one of the windows up on the second floor of the house. “And you all looked like you were having such a lovely time, I wanted to as well.”

“I see…but yer maw and da wouldnae want you runnin’ around the grounds in the middle of the night now, would they?” Luella’s gleeful expression dropped immediately at the mention of her parents. “You could get hurt, or worse.”

In all honesty, Alister's concern lied mainly with Leonard’s sanction than her immediate safety regarding the wilds of the estate. She was tough and seemingly fearless, except when it came to her parents, instilling so much trepidation into her, he was surprised she even risked breaking the rules by venturing outside.

“I don’t care, they’re all asleep anyway. No one even saw me leave my room,” Luella whined.

“Perhaps lass,” Callum interjected. “It’s best you go back inside to yer own bed.”

“No!” she exclaimed, catching some members of the group off guard. “I won’t, I don’t want to!”

“Alright, alright then,” Alister shot a look at Callum and lightly squeezed her arm. “There’s no need to be up in arms. I’m afraid mister Callum’s right though…it’s much too late for you to be up and about anyway. Wouldnae want you to be cross all day. How about I escort you back to the house then?”

Luella’s disappointment was palpable for she knew he was right. She had a tendency to be rather irate with less than an ideal amount of sleep. One night, her parents threw an extravagant party in the ballroom to celebrate her father’s birthday and she stayed up nearly all night sitting outside her bedroom door listening to the music and animated conversation happening below. The next day, her tutor that came to give her lessons five times a week had a hard time keeping her focused and properly behaved the whole session. Tossing all of her pamphlets and supplies to the floor in a sort of fatigued protest proved to be the breaking point as her tutor, Ms. Goodwin, gathered her things and stormed out. Leonard’s reaction ended up being lesson enough for Luella to never back talk her tutors again, though that had been the only other time she stayed up past her bedtime.

Luella looked downheartedly to Alister and nodded as she let out a small sigh, and her florid haired companion started his march back toward the house. Balanced on his side, he only needed one arm to support her weight while she had both of her arms wrapped around his neck. As they reached the door to the sunroom, Alister set her down gently and bent to one knee so his face was level with her face. He gently tried to tame her disheveled hair and brush the dirt from her slippers enough so that it wasn’t as noticeable.

“You took a great risk sneakin’ out here tonight lass, you gave us all a good fright,” he said seriously. Luella looked at the ground sheepishly. “Though I will say, you’re migh’y cannie to have made it out of that big house unnoticed.” He gave her a playful nudge and her deep brown eyes flicked up to a warm smile.

“I can be very sneaky! And quiet, no one even heard me!” she giggled proudly.

“Very good, but it mustn’t happen again. You come and visit us anytime, but I dinnae want you breakin’ anymore of your da’s rules now, understand?”

“I guess,” Luella said. “But I don’t like his rules, they’re boring.”

“Aye, they migh’ be, but they’re to be respected all the same. Tha’s just how it works, we’ve all got rules we have to follow.” Alister placed a calloused hand on her shoulder and stood. “Now, you’ll have to find your own way back, I’m afraid I’m not quite as a natural when it comes to stealthy proceedings.”

“I’ll come and visit Buckwheat tomorrow after breakfast,” Luella added as she opened the door and started inside.

“Aye.”

And with Alister’s soft reproach, Luella slipped into the darkness of her home and went off to bed as she was told. Though she kept her word of compliance for several weeks, her restive nature wasn’t easily suppressed.

 

* * *

 

 

When Luella turned eight, she learned that her mother was expecting another child, her third, and that it was going to be another girl. So she would have two little sisters to help mind, which was something she rather enjoyed, often brushing Louisa’s hair or telling her stories as she acted them out with toys and knickknacks.

Luella’s parents continued having children every few years or so until there were five of them, all girls. By the time she was fourteen, Luella had the feeling they wouldn’t stop until a son arrived, for she started to have a deeper understanding of the patriarchy that so assertively impregnated society, whether or not people were aware of it.

Nevertheless, four little sisters to entertain and watch over were tasks she acquired gladly, often taking them outside to play or patiently watch for birds from within the thick-grown gardens. Luella was, of course, the eldest, Louisa following her by three years at age 11. Being the second oldest meant a sense of maturity was developed early on just as it was with her older sister. They were most alike out of them all, astute and respectable with a disdain for regulation. Next in line was Lottie, aged six, spirited and somewhat absentminded. The house could be on fire and she would only look up from her book to question as to why it was so warm. Three years after Lottie came Lilly, now 10, and another three years introduced Lilac, now three years old. They all looked fairly similar, porcelain skin and dark hair in abundance just like their mother.

 

Ever since Louisa was old enough to understand that Buckwheat belonged to Luella and Luella alone, she also demanded a steed of her own. To keep things fair, for every child’s fifth birthday, their father gifted them their own horse. Most of the girls enjoyed spending time in the stables with the estate’s keepers, who provided ample entertainment to the young Ladies of the house.

One sunny afternoon, Luella and Louisa tacked up their horses, Buckwheat and Rosewood for a ride, as they were the only ones old enough to go out riding without an escort. Callum carried Rosewood’s saddle from the tack room and place it easily on the horse’s back just as Luella was tightening Buckwheat’s girth. Once she was satisfied, she sat on a nearby stool and tightened the laces of her riding boots.

“Good day for a ride,” came a low voice from her right. She didn’t even have to look to know it was Alister. “Buckwheat’s certainly glad to see you again I see.”

It was true; the horse was practically giddy with excitement when Luella showed up in her riding attire, something of an oddity to her family seeing as it wasn’t the traditional jacket and skirt. She opted for a more masculine statement in riding pants, which her mother protested incessantly claiming it was “indecent” and “peculiar” and “what would the Cunningham’s think if they were to come over for tea in the garden and saw her running about in men’s clothing?”

“He’s been itching for a run this past week, but he’s favoring his off leg. No more than a canter I’d risk and no longer than an hour” Alister informed her as he patted his hand on Buckwheat’s right shoulder. Luella stood and made her way to where he was standing. Bending over she ran her hand gently down the lower half of the horse’s leg checking for any inflammation or tenderness. It didn’t seem visibly agitated.

“How long has this been going on?” she questioned standing straight again.

“Hard to say, few days maybe, I walked him just yesterday and saw it then. It’s hardly noticeable, but just take it a bit easy no ma'er how antsy he gets, to be safe.” Luella let out a frustrated sigh.

“If I hadn’t been off at that stupid factory all week, I would’ve noticed sooner.” Seeing as Luella was the eldest and at the moment had no brothers to inherit Blackwood Steel, it was destined to become her responsibility. So recently, her father had requested, at the suggestion of her mother no doubt, that she start learning how the place worked. She hated it, the inside of the factory, it was hot and loud and crowded and Leonard’s business partners all looked at her with a special sort of patronizing glower. After all, a _woman_ was going to run this place once her father kicked it.

“No need for guilt wee barra, it was no easy to spot. Had I no paid it any attention we’d still be none the wiser,” Alister consoled.

“I’ll not risk it then,” Luella decided already untacking him. “Louis,” she called to a young stable boy no older than 8 who happened to be Mrs. O’Keefe’s son. He came running from his spot in the hayloft at once, scuttling down the ladder expertly.

“Yes mum,” he addressed politely.

“Louis, run to the kitchen and ask your mother to prepare a poultice for Buckwheat, then bring it back here please,” she talked to him sweetly as she slid the bit from the horse’s mouth. Louis nodded and ran off straight away toward the direction of the kitchen.

“I’ll put the poultice on his leg and walk him for a bit around the grounds. Have them change it when I come back and keep him resting a few days, we’ll see how it looks then.”

 “Aye. Shall I tack up Paddington for you in the mean time for when you get back?” Alister offered.

“That’s alright, lessons should start shortly after I return, and then Lady White and her son are coming for tea. I imagine they’ll be staying for supper, so riding seems out of the question for today.” Luella worked proficiently the next several minutes removing the tack and giving Buckwheat a quick brush just as Louis returned with the two buckets of homemade remedy. “Thank you, Louis.” She dipped her hand in one of the buckets and spread a pasty substance made of Epsom salt and some witch hazel over the ankle and lower portion of the leg. From the other bucket, she pulled a thin saturated paper-like material and applied it similarly to papier mâché. Finally wrapping a thick piece of cotton fabric around the area, Luella fastened it in place and stood just as Alister handed her a towel.

“A mere minute, very well done,” Alister applauded her skill.

“Where do you think I learned it all?” she jested, chucking the towel back at him. Fastening Buckwheat’s lead, Luella left for her walk. Alister stopped her just before leaving the stables.

“Ah, wouldnae want to lose that out there, with all that land who knows when we’d find it,” he noticed the locket catch the light and took it in his hand before placing it under the collar of Luella’s blouse and buttoning the top button around her neck. Such an intimate gesture would be deemed inappropriate by most, but their relationship was that of a father and his daughter more than anything else, so it was only normal to them. Anyone who watched Alister care for Luella as she grew up would have agreed, their bond was truer than most.

Suddenly the deep guttural sound of someone clearing his throat caught Luella off guard. Leonard stood in the doorway at the other end of the stables and her blood immediately started boiling. The only other time he set foot in this place was 9 years ago when she first got Buckwheat; this was her refuge away from the subjugation that was her household. There was no doubt in her mind that her father had seen what had just happened yet he simply stood, making no move to go to her. Luella was clearly meant to make the walk to him, though she showed no intention of going. Eventually, she sighed heavily and handed the lead to Alister who waited, watching her pass all the other horses' stalls as she went. Leonard’s face was stern and furrowed, wrinkles becoming more prominent by the day it seemed. He offered no greeting and addressed her firmly, but not before eyeing Alister with a quick glare.

 “Tomorrow, we will be going into town for a luncheon with your mother and some acquaintances. The others will stay here. We are leaving at eleven, so be properly dressed and ready to leave,” before he even finished his last sentence Leonard was already backing away and making for the house. There was no question; these were marching orders. He fixed Alister with another perfunctory frown before leaving entirely.

Luella tensely made her way back over to Buckwheat, taking hold of the lead again and heading out the stable muttering to herself.

She fondly stroked the side of Buckwheat's face. "I wish we could just run forever, away from this place."

"Dinnae say that, what about your sisters?" Not entirely aware she was within earshot, Luella turned abruptly to face Alister's sad expression. "They need you."

"They don't, I don't belong here. No one would miss me if I left." Airing these thoughts now seemed like a random time and place, but she spent a long time feeling isolated and ostracized from the rest of her family. Whether that was her own fault, she wasn't aware, but loneliness was something Luella was inordinately accustomed to.

"There is strength in unity. And they are your sisters forever, whether you like it or no. You cannae leave each other behind."

Luella stood in contemplation for a second before turning and heading out to the green pasture of Blackwood Manor.

 

* * *

Notes for Introduction:

\- Luella's entire family have been present in-game.

\- All of the staff/servants (i.e. Alister) have been invented for this particular narrative.

\- A lot of the Scottish is spelled phonetically, but I didn't want to make it impossible to read, so although it may seem like there are a million typos whenever Alister/Callum talks, it's intentional.

\- Buckwheat and Rosewood are also present in-game.

\- Lady White is deceased by the time our game starts, but Sebastian, her son, has played a fairly decent part so far.

 

Thanks for reading :)


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